


A Darker Shade of Red

by Tsukino_Akume



Series: Bright Skies AU [5]
Category: Power Rangers Time Force
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Science Experiments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukino_Akume/pseuds/Tsukino_Akume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The legacy of Wesley Collins and Eric Myers didn't just effect the past - it effected the future. One thousand years after they became Rangers, one person is still struggling against the corruption of Time Force and the heritage he never wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
> 
> 
> **Disclaimer/:** Saban/Disney/Whoever sure didn't write ***this*** into the series. The plot comes purely from my own warped little mind, and the characters are merely borrowed from them for my own amusement. Lucky you.  
>  **Warnings/:** People used for scientific experimentation, corrupted Time Force, character with self-image issues  
>  **Author's Notes/:** I decided to finally get started on my rewrite of A Darker Shade of Red, since it isn't that long yet, and it ties into the end of Bright Skies. Some of this will be familiar, some of it won't. Mostly I'm posting it because I'm getting stuck, and I need help. -Sheepish grin-
> 
> This all started out with an odd thought about where Alex could have gotten his dark hair from (Which is entirely cmar's fault - thanks cmar! ♥), and somehow I decided to run with a plot about just where that hair came from. Then one of my favorite characters wormed his little way in, creating one of my weirder Ranger friendships. And yet I find it works here. -Shrugs- I don't ask. This story is about why Alex is ... well, Alex, the people who try to keep him sane along the way, and the complications that arise in between. 
> 
> At least, that's the way it started. Then I saw S.P.D., and everything went to hell. -Snickers-
> 
> Love to rosabelle for beta work. ♥

He stood stiffly, hands crossed behind his back as he waited for the four Time Force Rangers to emerge from Quarantine. He'd left his sunglasses in his office, a decision that he'd been torn over, and knew he'd ultimately regret. But he owed this to them - to him most of all. If he was truly going to make up for what he'd done, he needed to let him know he was sincere. 

He tried not to fidget when he finally saw them heading in his direction. He swallowed down his nerves, taking a deep breath. He couldn't begin his apology if he was too scared to speak. 

They were different, he noted, taking in their weary movements and solemn expressions. He couldn't have expected them to be the same, of course. They had learned so much, as a team, as Power Rangers, as people. And now they'd been forced to leave behind their teammates and the place they had come to consider home. He knew that loss would ache for awhile. 

He tried not to be jealous. It wasn't their fault that - well, that things had happened the way they had. It was the way it had to be. It was what he had to do. All he could do now was hope that - 

Jen, Lucas, and Katie slowed to a stop in front of him, looking suspicious and tired. No one had told them what was going to happen to them yet; they probably thought they were still fired or something equally ridiculous. Logan had wanted to brief them personally, and Alex was appointed their escort. 

But the only thing that mattered to Alex at that moment was that Trip wasn't stopping with the others. He walked past him as though he wasn't even there. 

He tried not to wince. "Trip. Wait." 

Trip turned, tears shining in his eyes. "Why should I?" he demanded bitterly. "It's not like we're ***friends*** or anything." 

Alex visibly flinched. "That's - that's not true," he protested. 

"No, we're not. You made that perfectly clear, ***Sir***." He bolted from the room before anyone could stop him. 

"Trip, wait!" Alex called, starting after him. 

He was stopped by Katie's hand roughly grabbing his arm, and held in another wince. "What did you do to him?" she demanded angrily. "I've never seen him like that!" 

"Let ***go*** , Lieutenant," he growled warningly. 

"You tell me what you did, and I'll think about it," she retorted, glaring coldly. 

He fought to reign in his temper and failed. "I said let me go, damn it!" he shouted, trying to twist his way free. 

"Alex, what's going on?" he heard Jen ask. 

"What's going on is your lieutenant won't let go of me!" he snarled. "Katie, let *go*!" 

"Why don't you try giving a straight answer for once?" she snapped back. 

He growled again in frustration. He'd known Katie was strong, but this was ridiculous. "I need to find Trip and apologize!" 

There was a moment of silence as he continued to struggle. 

"Apologize for what?" Lucas asked suspiciously. 

"That's none of your business. It's between Trip and I. All you need to know is that I can't fix it with you keeping me here!" 

Jen was studying him, in a strangely intent way that she never had before. For a moment, he wondered if she could see right through him the way Trip always did. It was unnerving to say the least, and he was a little afraid of what she'd find there. 

He wasn't expecting for her to sigh, her expression almost seeming to soften. "Let him go, Katie," she commanded. 

"What?! But Jen - " 

"Let him go." 

Katie made a frustrated growl, but her grip dropped from his arm. He didn't bother wasting time with explanations or dignified exits: this was too important. He ran at a dead sprint, through hallways and elevators, ducking past co-workers and ignoring anyone who called out to him. He left the building, racing through the achingly familiar route to Housing 3, fourth floor, room 27. Even now, he knew it instinctively. 

And there on the floor, curled up hugging his knees, was Trip. 

For a moment he just watched him as he tried to catch his breath. There was something tragic about the defeated look on the face of someone who was being touted a hero. 

But it was more than that. Because this was Trip, and Trip wasn't supposed to look like that. Trip wasn't supposed to look so broken. 

_Never again._

At last Alex moved to crouch beside him, touching his shoulder cautiously. " ... Trip?" 

"I can't get in. My codes don't work," came the quiet reply. "I forgot I was fired." 

"You're not anymore. Your rooms have changed because you've all been promoted. You're in Housing 2 now, second floor, room 4." 

Trip glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Why did you follow me? And why didn't you tell us that before?" 

He tried to smile. "Some things were more important." 

Trip didn't return it. "So I'm important to you now?" 

He winced and bowed his head. "There's no excuse for how I treated you before Trip, and I know that," he said softly. "All I can do is say I'm sorry." 

"Why did you?" 

He let out a soft sigh, sliding to sit beside the other man. He shrugged a little. "A lot of reasons. I thought I'd be able to handle things better than that. But there was Jen, Doomtron, and ... " _***Him*** ,_ he finished silently. _Them._ "I didn't think I'd have to deal with it all at once." 

"And you shut down." 

He nodded. "Yeah." 

There was a sudden hard punch to his shoulder. He yelped slightly, not expecting it, and rubbed the injured arm as he looked up. Trip was frowning at him. "That's for ignoring me," he was informed. Trip paused, then punched him again, adding "And that's for pretending to be dead." 

"You mean you couldn't ... tell?" he wondered, still rubbing his shoulder. Trip had never been strong, but being a Ranger had given him the same enhanced strength all Rangers enjoyed. His punches actually ***hurt*** now. 

Trip shook his head. "I think the time difference affected my link to you. I couldn't sense if you were alive or dead. It was like you were just ... never there." He hesitated, then added softly "It was lonely." 

"I was lonely, too," Alex admitted quietly, daring another glance at him. "I woke up in a lab." He tried not to shiver and failed. "And you weren't there this time. I wasn't ... used to being alone in my head anymore. And then Captain Logan told me all of you had gone to 2001 to retrieve Ransik ... I wanted to strangle myself for telling Jen to go after him. I don't know what I was ***thinking*** ... " 

"You weren't," Trip said bluntly, but he still leaned into his shoulder a little in silent support. "You never do when you're injured or upset. It's a proven fact." 

He smiled a little. "And you're never afraid to tell me." 

There was a moment of silence. "I was then," Trip said at last, tracing a finger along the pattern of the floor. "You weren't ... you. The real you. You were the other you, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't reach you. And my mind was so fuzzy from having you suddenly there that it hurt to try for too long. The other you scares me," he finished softly. 

Alex winced again. 'The other you' was the facade he used with Time Force, when he had to act the way he was expected to. It was a necessary evil, but Trip had always hated it. Eventually he had resorted to treating Alex's shift in personality as a completely separate person, one he barely knew. It was uncomfortable, and neither of them liked it, but it seemed easier for Trip to deal with. And really, it was better in the end. It kept Time Force - kept ***everyone*** \- from realizing just how close the two of them actually were. And more importantly, kept them from wondering why. 

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I don't know how many times I can say it, but I am. I just ... I don't know!" He pinched his nose with his left hand in frustration, and glanced up as Trip giggled softly. "What?" 

"You remind me of Eric when you do that," Trip informed him. "I kept wanting to call him Alex." 

He hesitated for a moment. In spite of everything, there was still a part of him that wanted to know. "What were they like?" he asked finally. 

He saw Trip's gentle smile out of the corner of his eye. "More like you than you'll ever want to know." 

"Tell me?" 

Trip considered for a minute. "Wes has your sense of humor, and I think he has foresight like you. He puts others before himself." He paused, wrinkling his nose. "Well, he didn't at first - he was a little selfish, actually. But that wasn't the real him, like the other you isn't the real you. He's really very kind, and he wants to help everyone, even when he doesn't always know how to." 

Alex found himself slightly amused and pleased that he was still able to follow that train of thought. Not everyone could understand Trip when he rambled. "And Eric?" 

"Eric's a tough guy with a soft spot who was really lonely and wouldn't admit it. He was always trying to pass himself off as something he wasn't, always trying to earn everyone's respect. He just couldn't see that it wasn't their respect he was really trying to earn ..." Trip trailed off thoughtfully, his eyes distant. 

He shook his head abruptly, but there was still something sad in his expression. "Eric reminded me of the other you, the one you let everyone else see. Wes ... Wes is more like the real you. The one that only I get to see." Their eyes met, but there was nothing accusing in Trip's gaze. 

It surprised him. Trip had always pushed him to be more open about himself with others, particularly Jen. He insisted that Alex would never be confident in a relationship where he couldn't be honest. 

"You're still different from them, though," Trip continued after a pause. "Neither of them are shy. And I never saw them act as bad as you do when you're upset. That's just you." 

Alex made a face, but he was grateful to see Trip smile at him again. "I am ***not*** shy!" 

"Oh no?" Trip retorted playfully. "How long did it take you to get up the nerve to talk to Jen?" 

He winced. "Not as long as it could have." 

Trip's reply was cut off by the sound of Alex's communicator going off. 

Alex closed his eyes, wishing he could just make Time Force go away. This was the first time he'd seen Trip in ***months***. The first time they'd been alone in more than a year. He'd nearly ***died*** in front of him, for Power's Grace. Couldn't they leave the two of them alone for just a little while? For once? 

A hand squeezed his wrist gently. "You'd better answer," Trip said softly. 

"I don't want to," he muttered rebelliously, even though Trip was right. 

Trip chuckled as the communicator went off again, leaning his head against Alex's shoulder. "If you don't, I will. One of us has to have a sense of duty." 

"Why does it have to be me?" he grumbled as he reopened his eyes, pulling the still beeping unit from his belt. 

"Because you're the reliable one?" 

Alex rolled his eyes, giving him a dirty look as he answered. "Collins." 

An image of Captain Logan sprang up. "Captain Collins, please report to my office to show the Rangers to their new quarters." 

"Yes, Sir." 

There was a pause. "Squad Leader Regis is with you." It wasn't quite a question. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"I expect you'll fill him in on the details, then. Logan out." 

He nodded shortly. "Yes, Sir. Collins out." 

Trip was watching him when he lowered his hand, and he sighed quietly, offering him a sad smile. "Time Force awaits." 

Trip looked disappointed, but he nodded. "They always do." 

There was a long moment of silence as they sat there, neither of them willing to move. Moving meant life continued, and life meant their moment of peace would be broken. Life meant a world where no one knew, or ***could*** know, how important they were to each other. 

"I wish the world would go away," Trip whispered, echoing his thoughts. "We could just be us, just like this. For as long as we wanted." 

It was a beautiful dream. 

But it wasn't reality, and reality was what finally made Alex climb to his feet. He offered Trip a hand up, giving a brief squeeze before releasing him. "It's good to have you back, Trip," he said quietly. 

Trip looked at him for a moment, then abruptly seized him in a tight hug. "I missed you, _Lias aeo na'say'ah_." 

Alex swallowed. 'Brother of Heart'. Trip hadn't called him that since they'd first been freed. He hugged back carefully, trying not to cling to the younger man. "I missed you too," he murmured at last. 

He wasn't stupid enough to think he was completely forgiven, but it was a start. 

****

He walked stiffly, arms crossed behind his back as he entered Logan's office, ignoring Trip's mental nudge at the abrupt personality shift. "Sir." 

Logan glanced up. "You've been briefed, Squad Leader Regis?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"If that's all Sir, I'll escort them to their new quarters," Alex spoke up. 

Logan nodded, raising a silent eyebrow rather pointedly at the address. "Thank you, Captain." 

Alex shrugged minutely. "Habit. Follow me, Rangers." He turned and walked out before Logan could try argue the finer points of promotions with him again, not bothering to look to see if anyone followed him. 

"Alex, wait!" Jen called, sounding frustrated. 

He slowed his pace slightly, allowing them to catch up. "All of your belongings have been moved to your new quarters," he said as they were boarded the elevator. "You've all been moved to Housing 2, second floor, rooms 1-4." 

He could feel Lucas looking at him oddly. "They kept us together?" 

" ... I insisted," he admitted reluctantly. 

A hand squeezed his shoulder as the elevator chimed. "Thanks, Alex," Trip said quietly. 

He shrugged, keeping his eyes set firmly straight ahead as he led them across the yard and into Housing 2. "It was nothing," he muttered, feeling a little uncomfortable. He owed them this and so much more. 

"Arguing with the Admiral was ***nothing***?" Jen said incredulously. The man wasn't exactly known for being generous and sympathetic. Or reasonable. 

"Captain Scotts and Lieutenant Walker are in rooms 1 and 3, Lieutenant Kendall in room 2, and Squad Leader Regis in room 4," he informed them, ignoring her question as they entered the next elevator and headed up to the second floor. He wanted to work things out with Trip, but that didn’t mean he was ready to deal with Jen. "These are your new passcodes and ID cards." 

"Thank you," Jen said stiffly as they accepted them. Her entire posture and expression told him she'd decided if he could be uptight and stuffy, so could she. 

The elevator stopped on their floor, leaving him to watch silently as the four headed to their rooms. They were comparing keycards, making comments about sharing passcodes. There was a closeness about them all that hadn't been there nine months ago. 

Anxiety surged. He shouldn't - he ***knew*** he shouldn't, knew better than anyone the risk - but he found himself taking a deep breath. "Hastilanu?" he called. He knew it was a mangled, poor attempt, but it didn't matter. 

Trip laughed outright, glancing back at him with a bright grin. "Not even close." 

"One day," he threatened, mock-scowling at him. The tight feeling in his chest loosened a little at the sight of Trip's smile. 

Trip just grinned, and there was the barest brush of _something_ against his mind, like having someone stroke his cheek. "Maybe when your vocal cords get to the right range, and you can remember all the syllables," he teased back, and Alex fought down a smile of his own. 

As he turned and reached for the down button he could hear the Katie ask what that had been about. 

"Alex has been trying to pronounce my birth name since we met," Trip told them. "I keep telling him that human vocal cords can't produce the right frequency, but he never believes me." 

"Your birth name?" Lucas sounded surprised. 

Trip's laughter echoed as the doors were closing. "You didn't think Trip is really my name, did you?" 

****

Relaxing in his office only a few hours later as he read through the reports Quarantine had sent on the Rangers, he reflected on the irony that he seemed to be getting set up as their supervisor. They'd just ***love*** that, he was sure. But then again, if the Rangers were reporting to him, that might give him a better chance of protecting them. There wasn't much he could do, but to be able to help them at all ... 

He didn't glance up at the knock on his door. "Enter." 

The door slid open, and Jen hesitated. "May I come in?" 

"I said you could, didn't I?" He kept his eyes on the paper he was holding. Why was she here? He wasn’t ready for this. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

But really, when did the world ever wait for things to be convenient? 

"You didn't know it was me at the time," she pointed out. 

"I'm not taking it back, if that's what you're asking." 

She made a frustrated noise, stepping inside at last. "We need to talk. Will you at least look at me?" 

He lowered the paper slowly, steeling himself internally and schooling his features. "What did you want to say?" 

She started to pace. "I wanted to talk to you about the ring. You deserve to know the reasons why I gave it back." 

"Wes and Wes?" he muttered under his breath bitterly. 

So much for sounding mature. 

"That's not why!" 

He looked up, startled. He hadn't realized she'd heard him. He forced himself calm again. "What other reason is there?" he asked practically. _Collins was kind, funny, smart, adventurous, generous ..._ He went down the mental list of gushing attributes he’d read in their reports of Collins and their eventual capture of Ransik. _How am I supposed to compare to that?_

She knelt down in front of him, staring intently into his eyes again. He kept still, refusing to give her whatever it was she was looking for. Why did she keep ***doing*** that? 

At last she sighed. "Two things," she said quietly. "First of all, if I was even looking at Wes to begin with, it wasn't fair to you. I can't accept your ring if I can't be content with you as the only man in my life. Second, when you came back to 2002, and then when Wes sent us here, I started to realize just how little I really know about you. I know the parts you want me to see, but not the ***real*** you. I can't marry a fake person, Alex." 

_So Trip was right. He'll be thrilled,_ he thought distantly, only to feel a brief surge of guilt barely a moment later. Trip would never be thrilled over anything that would hurt someone else. 

"I see," he managed, keeping his tone cool and detached. 

She reached up to touch his cheek, and he could feel his mask threatening to crumble. "You're a terrible liar," she told him softly. "Without your sunglasses, your eyes give you completely away." 

His sunglasses. He'd started wearing them at the suggestion from one of the doctors, because he'd been so sensitive to natural light after - when he joined Time Force. Over time, he'd gotten used to the sunlight, but he couldn't bring himself to completely stop wearing them. 

They were his shield from the world. He could keep his expression blank, but people could always see through him when they looked into his eyes. The sunglasses hid them from view, consequently hiding ***him***. He felt exposed without them. Weak. 

He chose not to answer her. If his dignity had been lost, he wasn't going to make things worse by opening his mouth. 

"I'm not saying that I love Wes more than you. And don't you dare compare yourself to him." 

_A little late for that,_ he thought darkly. _People have been comparing us since before I was born._

"I still love you, Alex. But I've been falling in love with a person I barely know; someone I can only see when your defenses slip. We can't have a relationship if you're not willing to be honest with me." She took one of his hands in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not saying never. I'm saying I want to know the parts of you you've been hiding. Once we know more about each other ... well, we'll see what happens." 

"What could you possibly want to know?" It slipped out before he thought about it. 

She frowned slightly. "For one thing, I never knew you and Trip were so close," she told him pointedly. 

Damn. He ***had*** been too obvious. 

"We've known each other for a long time," he said vaguely. 

Her expression darkened. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! You won't trust me with your secrets! Marriage can't be based on lies, Alex!" 

His face turned to stone. If she wanted him to be completely honest with her, she was in for a long wait. "Then maybe there can't be marriage at all." 

She stared at him. "You can't mean that." 

He just looked at her. 

Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she dropped his hands, bolting for the door. It slid closed with barely a whisper, but the intended slam echoed in his mind. 

"Computer, activate privacy lock." 

There was a soft chime, and he closed his eyes at last. _I can't tell you and have you never look at me the same way again. I can't trust anyone to know. Not even you._ His eyes burned, and he blinked harshly before dropping his gaze back to his paperwork. 

He didn't have time for this. He had work to do.


	2. Unwanted

"Alex, you can't keep avoiding this forever," Logan argued. 

_Watch me,_ he thought fiercely. "It's perfectly safe where it is," he said instead. 

"And if someone cracks the vault?" 

"They couldn't use it anyway because of the DNA Lock," he reminded him. 

Logan reached up to rub his forehead. They were technically the same rank now, but it was still hard to think of him as Derek after so long serving under him. "And what about the other Rangers? Have you stopped to consider that one day they'll need a fifth? Those powers were made to work in a team. They'll need their leader." 

"And they have one: Jen," he cut in sharply, eyes narrowing. " ***If*** for some reason, the Rangers couldn't handle something without a fifth morpher, ***if*** and only then, they needed me, then ... " He sighed, forcing out the words because his sense of duty wouldn't allow him to say anything else. "Then I'd accept it." 

"So you plan to leave it in the vault until it's absolutely necessary? They could be dead before you even get to it!" 

"I wasn't aware you had such little faith in them." 

"I wasn't aware you were so selfish." 

He froze, barely aware of the sound of his own heart beginning to pound in his ears. Selfish? He was being _selfish_?! 

"I am ***not*** being selfish," he nearly spat, fists clenching painfully. "I ***did*** my time. I brought in Ransik, I protected the city. It's not my morpher anymore. It never really was to begin with." 

Logan gave him an irritated look. "Are you still trying to argue that it belongs to Wesley Collins? The man is ***dead*** , Alex. He's been dead for a thousand years. As his descendant, that leaves it to ***you***." 

"That morpher," he said coldly, carefully, "Was ***never*** mine, Logan. It was made for Collins. Just because it came back here after his death doesn't make it any less his." _And I don't want it! Haven't I suffered enough over that stupid hunk of metal?_

Logan sighed, placing his hands on the desk in front of him. "Look. Why don't we compromise? You don't have to use it. All I'm asking is that you keep it with you. That way if something does happen, you're already prepared. Does that sound fair?" 

He scowled at him. "It sounds like I don't have a choice in the matter," he retorted. The irony wasn't lost on him that only a year ago he would never have spoken to the other man this way. The benefits of being promoted for coming back from the dead, apparently. 

"Honestly? No. The bigwigs want the morpher on your wrist. They want their Rangers. And you are the ***only*** person capable of using the Red Chrono Morpher." Logan shrugged. "I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is." 

He closed his eyes with a sigh, fighting to control the part of him that screamed in protest at the idea of even getting near a morpher again. "Well, whatever the bigwigs want," he muttered bitterly. He snatched the Chrono Morpher from its case in the center of Logan's desk, slapping it on his wrist irritably. He ignored the surge of energy and familiarity that came with its acceptance of him. "Will that be all? 'Sir'?" he finished sarcastically. 

Logan scowled at him. "Just get out of my office, Alex. I don't have time to deal with your attitude anymore." 

He spun on his heel, marching out. Behind him, he heard Logan call "And while you're at it, grow up!" 

"Go to - " he choked on the muttered words, and scowled. 

Stupid language censor. Stupid morpher. Stupid sadistic scientist bast - 

He coughed as his thoughts rebelled against the word, and fought to keep to punch from punching the wall as he waited impatiently for the elevator. 

Judging by the startled looks he got as he made his way to his office, the expression on his face was less than friendly. They wouldn't have been able to blame him if they'd known - not that he would ever explain. How else was he supposed to react to being forced back into the role he'd spent his life trapped in, the role he'd been trying so hard to escape? 

He flopped in his chair as the door to slid shut behind him, closing his eyes as he tried to keep from grabbing the morpher and flinging it across the room. Or out the window, more preferably. He knew he should probably stop whining about this. No one had ever cared about his opinion on things before; why should they bother to now? 

Distantly he was forced to admit that wasn't really fair. Trip would have understood, at least a little. He knew better than almost anyone just how Alex felt about the Chrono Morphers, and somewhat of why. 

_But Trip is tainted now,_ a traitorous part of his mind whispered . All of the Time Force Rangers were. Now that they knew Wes, Wes was the one they wanted. And his replacement wasn't good enough. 

His replacement would never be good enough. 

Besides, hadn't Trip taken a morpher, too? Even though he knew the truth, knew what they were, he still wore one. Alex may have been the one to tell them to go, but Trip didn't seem to have any regrets about being a Ranger himself. 

He shook his head, frustrated with himself. Self-pity wasn't going to get him anywhere but depressed, and he hadn't talked with Trip enough to make any assumptions. He had enough problems to worry about right now. 

He reached for a stack of paperwork and started to work his way through it. Might as well be at least a little productive today. 

An hour later found him tossing another folder aside irritably. He still couldn't focus on anything, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't even sure what half of what he'd just read was. 

He eyed the morpher sitting innocently on his left wrist again and sighed, pinching his nose. He still had the Ranger Report to do. If he was ever going to tell the Rangers about his new accessory, now was probably the best time. 

The Ranger Report was yet another - and in his opinion completely stupid - idea the higher-ups had come up with, requiring for an update each week by one of the Rangers on any unusual activity. A different Ranger was ordered to do the report each week, and for some reason they'd decided to put him in charge of taking and delivering the results. It was supposed to warn them of any possible Ransik-like attacks before they happened, but he sincerely doubted that if it ***was*** serious, they wouldn't do anything other than send the Rangers after it … which they would have done on their own in the first place. 

So the entire process was stupid and pointless, and he had to do it anyway. Why had he agreed to become an officer again? That's right: he was a masochist. 

He checked the listing to find out which Ranger had been assigned for the first week and lifted his wrist with a sigh. "Collins to Lieutenant Kendall." 

"Yeah, W - " There was a cough. "Yes, Sir?" 

He scowled at the slip. "Report to my office as soon as you're available," he said shortly, turning off the communicator without another word. 

About ten minutes later, Lucas came in hesitantly. "Sir? I - " He froze as his eyes found Alex's wrist, then narrowed in anger. "What are you doing with that?" he demanded. 

Alex closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Things in the past don't always remain in the past, Lieutenant," he said at last, finally looking up at him. 

Lucas' fury didn't fade in the slightest. "That's not yours," he growled. "It belongs to Wes!" 

"I'm well aware of that, thanks," he snapped back. "Quite frankly, it's none of your business ***who*** it belongs to, Lieutenant. I called you in here for the Ranger Report. You're first up." 

Lucas snapped to attention instantly. "No unusual activity to report, Sir." 

He nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant." 

Lucas saluted, then hesitated. 

He sighed, knowing he was going to regret this. "Permission to speak freely." 

The Blue Ranger's face hardened almost instantly. "You'll never replace Wes." His voice was low and harsh. " ***Sir***." 

Alex's fists clenched. If Lucas hadn't left at that exact moment, he knew with utter certainty that he would have throttled him right then and there. He barely restrained himself from sending the files on his desk flying. Shaking his head as he fought to control his temper and failed, he headed for the training rooms. He needed to blow off some steam before he blew something up or put someone in the infirmary. 

Again. 

****

The roundhouse caught his opponent off guard, and he spun with his momentum to follow up with a side kick. He ducked the incoming punch, sliding under it instead to catch them in the gut with a hard uppercut. He dropped back, dodging several more blows, and jumped over a sweep kick that would otherwise have knocked him flat. Moving in with several swift punches that left no chance for retaliation, he shot an abrupt snap kick to the back of the knee and another uppercut that brought them to the floor, his fist hovering over their face. 

"Opponent defeated. Winner: Collins," the computer announced blandly. 

The small audience that had gathered applauded as the image beneath him faded. He stood slowly, lowering his fists as he took several breaths, finally feeling calmer. Distantly he wondered if they would have applauded so much if they knew it wasn't a training sim he'd been battling. 

But then almost no one remembered the classic video games from the end of the 1900's, let alone thought that by-the-book Captain Collins was enough of a history buff to program _Street Fighter_ into the training room. He'd always had a bit of a weakness for video games - especially the combat variety. 

"You ***jerk***!" 

The sudden yank on his arm startled him, and he spun to find Katie glaring at him hatefully. "How could you?!" she demanded, practically nose-to-nose with him. "You had no right to take it! It belongs to Wes! And Jen's our leader, not you!" 

He tried to discreetly take a step back as he twisted to get free of her grip. His heart was pounding at the sudden intrusion on his personal space, and he fought to keep it from showing. "What are you talking about? I haven't taken anything." 

"Then why is it on your wrist?!" 

"My ... ?" He trailed off, realizing what she was referring to. His eyes fell automatically to the morpher. ***That*** what was she was so furious over? If she wanted it so bad, she could ***have*** it. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but a soft, choked sound stopped him. Heart sinking, he turned to find the last sight on Earth he'd wanted to see: Trip glaring up at him, trying desperately not to cry. 

Darn. Whatever Trip had wanted believed on his own was probably being overridden by Katie's angry thoughts. "Trip, I - " 

He was cut off abruptly by the fist that slammed into his nose. Pain exploded between his eyes as his head slammed back from the force of the blow. He stumbled, hands going instinctively to cover his nose. Something wet touched them, and pain flared again as his fingers brushed it. Spots swam before his eyes, and he barely managed to force them open to look at Trip in shock. 

The other boy looked horrified, but the expression faded back into anger as their eyes met. "How ***could*** you?" he demanded. "You - why didn't you - I ***hate*** you! I'll ***never*** forgive you for this!" 

A cold, distant feeling settled over Alex as he watched Trip bolt from the room. He was aware of Katie's nasty glare before she followed, but he could care less. 

Intellectually, he knew that Trip couldn't really hate him - research stated that Xybrians weren't capable of hate, and barely extreme dislike. Their hearts were too pure for that, and Trip was no exception. But knowing that, and hearing him say it were two different things. 

Trip was supposed to know. Trip was supposed to understand. Of ***everyone*** , Trip was supposed to understand how much he hated the Chrono Morphers, that he would never have taken it if he had a choice. 

Apparently Trip was on ***His*** side now, too. 

His heart clenched painfully, and he brushed aside whoever was trying to reach for his nose, heading for the door. There was only one person who could have leaked the information about the Morpher. And if Kendall wanted to cause a problem, he'd get one. 

He found him in the cafeteria. The person Lucas was talking to didn't even register as he headed straight for the other man and extracted revenge. Lucas' eyes widened as he was spun around, only to have a fist smash into his face. He retaliated, and within moments they were brawling, ignoring the hands that tried to separate them. 

Something sharp pressed into Alex's neck. _Sedative!_ his instincts screamed silently, and he struggled wildly. _Nonono! Get away from me! Leave me alone!_

But despite his efforts, he felt his eyes slide shut. 

****

Consciousness returned to find himself staring up into a familiar pair of brown eyes. The anxiety he felt faded at the sight, and he found himself getting lost in them. Then pain struck again, and he flinched. "Ow ... " 

"Stop moving," Jen informed him. "You'll only make it worse." She carefully dabbed his nose with a wet cloth, then refolded it to a clean side and dabbed again. 

"It hurts," he mumbled. The part of his mind that was more coherent was appalled at how whiny that had come out. What was ***wrong*** with him today? 

"Your nose is broken - of course it hurts. We don't have time to get it taken care of yet." She seemed mildly amused. 

"Broken?" 

"Apparently Trip has a better right hook than he thought," she informed him. 

Trip. Trip had hit him. Trip was - Trip was one of ***them*** now. 

The thought hurt more than his nose ever could, and he tried to sit up, pushing her hands away. "I'm fine," he muttered. 

"Of course you are," she retorted sarcastically, reaching for him again. 

He ducked away, wincing as pain flared, and shook it off with an old sense of familiarity. Pain was nothing. Pain was just his body trying to force limits that could easily be ignored. "Stop it. I'm fine." 

"Half of your face is covered in blood. Somehow I doubt that," she returned irritably. "And we're been summoned for a meeting with Captain Logan, so you need to get cleaned up." 

"Meeting. Great. Of course," he muttered bitterly. Time Force at it's most inconvenient, as always. 

Jen was silent for a moment. "Why didn't you tell us they gave you back the Red Chrono Morpher?" she asked suddenly, managing to let only a hint of anger into her voice. 

He let out a long sigh, trying to calm his frustration. This was Jen, and she deserved to know - it was her team after all. And at least she was giving him the chance to explain. "I have no intention of using it again. Ever. The Rangers already have a capable leader and a good team. They don't need a fifth Ranger anymore. Time Force is trying to bully me into taking up my old position, but I won't. No one wants to see this thing in a museum more than me, whether you believe me or not. As for why I didn't tell the rest of you, I - " He barely caught himself from finishing the thought. _I didn't have the time. I didn't want to admit I had it. I didn't want to think about it._

_... I already know you won't accept me as your teammate._

"I didn't think you needed to know I had it if all it was going to be was a fancy communicator," he said finally. 

"Maybe you should have let us be the judge of that," she said icily. "Here. You'd better get cleaned up." She practically threw the cloth at him, storming out of the room as he caught it on reflex. 

He sat still for a moment before letting out a slow sigh. He leaned forward to rest his head between his knees for a few minutes. His nerves were still shot, from Trip's betrayal and the sedative they'd apparently used to stop his fight with Kendall. He ***hated*** sedatives. 

"A - Alex?" 

He closed his eyes at the tentative voice. "Yes?" 

"I ... I'm sorry," Trip whispered. "I didn't ... I didn't mean to." 

He snorted without meaning to, and winced as pain flared in his nose. "Yes, you did," he said shortly, pushing himself to his feet. He paused at a mirror to make a few cursory swipes at the blood on his face until he was clean. 

"No, I didn't! I'm ***really*** sorry, Alex," Trip pleaded. "I - " 

"You what?" he asked flatly, turning to stare at him. He ignored the tears in Trip's eyes. No matter how bad Trip felt at this moment - and he was sure he did - it couldn't compare to what he was feeling himself. "You forgot? You weren't thinking? You were missing Collins too much to remember how I feel about it?" 

" ***What***? That's not - " A few tears finally spilled over as Trip stared at him, clearly hurt. "You're the one who came up with this whole plan in the first place! It was ***your*** idea to hide, not mine!" He shook his head, wiping at his eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it. I'd ***never*** mean that!" 

He sighed, reaching up to press a hand against his forehead. He was too tired to deal with this now. Too worn. Too broken. "Forget it, Trip," he muttered at last. "If it makes you all feel any better, I'm not wearing it because I ***chose*** to, okay?" He turned, tossing the cloth in a bin and wondering why Jen had bothered with something so ... archiac. Who actually used washcloths these days, anyway? 

Force of habit probably, he realized. After a year in the past, he supposed he'd have to get used to the four of them developing weird quirks like that. 

"Wait! What do you mean - Alex, ***please***!" A press of sensation against his mind. _:: Please don't walk away from me again! ::_

He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment before pulling free of Trip's hand on his arm and firmly pushing the other's mind away from his own. "We have a meeting, Squad Leader," he said flatly. 

The other three Rangers were already waiting when he arrived in Logan's office, standing at attention. The chairs that were usually place in front of the captain's desk had been moved, Alex noted. Which was interesting, being that technically he and Jen were of equal rank to Logan and didn't ***have*** to stand in front of him like cadets waiting to be scolded. Not that Jen would - she'd never leave her team to stand alone. It was part of what made her such a good leader. 

Alex moved to stand slightly apart from the rest, and didn't bother straightening to attention. He could care less right now what any of them thought of it; he was getting sick and tired of other people's opinions, other people's games. They already hated him anyway. Why was he even bothering to try and satisfy them all? 

He heard Trip slip into place beside him, trying to inch closer to close the gap. He caught Katie's glare out of the corner of his eye and ignored it. 

"Glad to see you could all make it," Logan said sarcastically. His gaze zeroed in on Alex, who tried not to roll his eyes. Of course, it was all automatically ***his*** fault. "I gave you that morpher two hours ago Collins, and you're already getting into trouble with it. Do you have any idea what it does for Time Force to have people see its Rangers brawling like children?" he demanded. 

Alex stiffened. "I am ***not*** a Ranger," he said darkly. 

Logan glared, but Alex wasn't backing down. "The deal was that you wear it in case of emergencies. Not that you use it as an excuse to cause trouble." 

"Is that what you think I was doing?" Alex demanded incredulously. He gestured to his nose. "Yeah, I ***live*** for stuff like this. I told you I don't want this thing, and you *forced* me take it." 

"And we've been over this," Logan ground out. "You are the only one capable of using that morpher, therefore it now belongs to you. That doesn't give you the excuse to act like such a child about it!" 

"Acting like a child?" He laughed: a low, bitter sound. He saw Trip flinch. "I'm acting like a child." He shook his head, amused. "You know what? Fine. Punish me. Fire me. Whatever. I don't care anymore." He turned for the door. 

"I'm not finished with you, Collins!" 

"Well, I'm finished with you," he snapped back. He paused in the doorway to look back at them, shaking his head. "I'm finished with all of you. You want the Red Chrono Morpher? You can have it." He ripped it from his wrist without a second thought, throwing it at Kendall's head. "Go give it to the real Wesley Collins. His replacement quits." 

He walked out, ignoring the stares at his back, the anxious press of Trip's mind against his own, and Logan's angry shouting.


	3. Fallen Hero

He'd walked this hall so many times before that he could recall every detail of the pictures on its walls from memory. To his immediate left was a picture of the Red Time Force and Quantum Rangers, perfectly posed and ready for action. To his right was Wesley Collins and Eric Myers, Myers looking cool and indifferent while Collins slung an arm around his shoulders with a bright grin. After that they separated, keeping Collins to his left and Myers to his right. Pictures of each one throughout their careers, at work or - in Collins' case, at least - relaxing. Something about the separation seemed wrong from the little he knew of them, but it wasn't his place to complain. 

At last he reached a side door, almost hidden from view between frames of Eric Myers and the Quantum Ranger. He raised his hand for fingerprint identification, waiting for a moment before the door slide open silently. The inside, unlike the well-lit hall, was dark and cold. A cryogenic tube had been placed at the far end, hooked up to various medical equipment. A metal chair had been placed to one side, and he went to sit in it. 

He remained silent, leaning forward to rest his chin on clasped hands. He came here when he needed time and space to think, the only place where he could be really be alone. He could be found in his apartment, but hardly anyone even knew about this room, let alone cared about what it was for. The few that did rarely came, either from disinterest or respect for his privacy. 

His body was still protesting the sudden removal of the morpher after only two hours of feeding off it again, and the feeling of withdrawal was making him nauseous. Was he already getting addicted to it again, or had he pulled it off in time? Would he know? 

Even in the months he hadn't worn it, when the Red Chrono Morpher was in the past with its owner, he'd still felt strange without it. He was sick and weak, and having that extra source of strength taken away from him left him feeling vulnerable. It had taken too long to heal from his injuries, and he kept wondering if something was wrong with him in all the time he'd spent holed up in that dark room, watching over the Rangers. 

The nightmares hadn't helped of course. Remembering his last moments had only affected his dreams for maybe a week. But waking up in the medical wing, surrounded by bright lights and machines and people he didn't know ... 

He'd panicked. 

The resulting struggle from him trying to escape had led to a couple of months in counseling, where he'd been forced to lie through his teeth about why he'd reacted the way he had. The therapist wasn't someone who knew him or who he really was, so she'd bought his excuses about Ranger instincts kicking in when he woke up in an unfamiliar place. He fed her some lines about Ransik's attack and facing his own death bothering him more than he'd thought, and she'd eaten it up. He suffered through her assurances that his reactions were perfectly normal, that there was nothing to be ashamed of. That he should be proud that his instincts of self-preservation were so strong. 

Proud. He snorted. Pride had nothing to do with it. And self-preservation instincts? That wasn't something he'd ever really had. Protecting others ... protecting Ben, and Trip, and eventually Newtech City itself, that was what he knew. But him? He was expendable. 

He sighed, leaning forward as he contemplated the box in front of him. 'Cryogenic containment unit', he corrected himself. Supposed to be keeping him alive or something. 

One of the 'doctors' who puttered in and out of here once in awhile to check the equipment had once suggested that he talk, in hopes of waking him up. He knew better, though. ***If*** Ben was even capable of waking up, of hearing him, he wouldn't want to. A lifetime of sleep was the best reward for the life he'd lived, and Alex wouldn't take that away from him. 

There was irony, and a sense of injustice, in the fact that this secret room was so close to the labs that had created them. The labs they had lived in for fifteen years, being pushed to be stronger, faster, smarter, better. Enduring the pain and torture of testing the Morphers over and over again. The blessedly dark, quiet nights when their only comfort was that they were together - each of them the only person the other could trust. 

He could still remember the realization that the Quantum Morpher was hurting him. It had started out with small things, moments of weakness where Ben's strength simply gave out, or sudden flares of temper that seemed odd, but not completely unusual because Ben had always had a bit of a short fuse. That had moved on to seizures and violent mood swings, which left one of the scientists pondering if he'd become schizophrenic. His body had begun to fail him after that, suffering massive nerve and tissue damage. 

The morning Ben had woken up and quietly declared he couldn't feel his legs was the day Alex knew he was losing him. 

Not that that had stopped the scientists, of course. To them this was a chance to test the physical boosting capabilities of the morpher, and test it they had. It had proven that it could give the ability to walk to a handicapped person, and they hadn't cared that it left Ben screaming in agony afterwards. 

The sound of Ben's screams still haunted Alex's nightmares sometimes. Memories of the sweat on his face, the unbearable pain he could see the other boy suffering. Knowing that no matter how strong or how many painkillers he snuck him each night, they never made it stop. 

Morphed, no one could have known the Quantum Ranger was in pain, and ***while*** he was morphed, he wasn't. He was as strong and fast as Time Force Red, and could easily defeat him in combat on a good day. But Ben was becoming addicted to being a Ranger. Morphing took away the pain, and to him, it was worth the excruciating pain afterwards just for that time when he was strong and perfect again. His body decayed faster and faster, until he began begging to morph again. The scientists took it as a sign of a willing patient and pushed him harder, testing to see how long he could hold his Ranger form, and how much pressure and pain it would take to make him lose it. 

Alex had been forced to watch him dying, slowly and painfully, and know there was nothing he could do. There was nowhere to escape to, and Ben was in no condition to leave even if there was. Worse than that, he had become so addicted to his morpher that he would have refused to go, too desperate for those moments of painlessness. Nothing else could make him stop hurting, and now there was nothing else he wanted more. 

The arrival of the strange stasis pod to their nightmare had been a mixed blessing. With Ben losing his sanity, Alex was alone, losing himself in the experiments and pain. Then one night he'd felt the foreign brush of another mind against his, and a strange voice whispering in his head in a song he'd never heard before. 

At first he thought ***he*** was starting to lose his mind, too. But the words kept coming, and the strange, childish voice started to become reassuring somehow. It was always there, even when the scientists were cutting him open again, trying to distract and calm him. Keeping him alive when he had no one left to live for. 

The voice was a fast learner, picking up English from him at an incredible speed and slowly explaining who he was and where he'd come from until Alex was finally convinced that he was real. Having someone to talk to again, even someone he could only somewhat understand, had given him something to cling to. He could focus on trying to learn Xybrian and teaching his new friend English and never have to think about what was going on happening around him until it was time to wake up for another day. 

The price of a companion however, was high. Even trapped in his stasis pod, the alien child had been another fascination to the scientists, and Alex was forced to wait for the day another person would have to suffer alongside him. He dreaded the day his new friend woke up as much as he hoped for it, and he hated himself for wanting it at all. 

Ben finally collapsed one day in the middle of a standard blaster test. The test was nothing new: he and Alex would stand across from each other and fire their blasters until one of them demorphed. The Quantum Defender was far more powerful than his simple Chrono Blaster, and often the scientists would take extra shots with blasters of their own to even the odds. 

He could never be completely sure, but somehow Alex ***knew*** that it was his Chrono Blaster that gave the final blow that day. 

Ben had gone down and stayed there. There was no screams, no curses, no begging for them to power up the Morpher again. He was just ... gone. 

Alex had remained silent as Ben's body was taken away for regenerative stasis, in hopes of bring him out of the coma. He knew Ben wasn't dead, but something in him had just ... shut down at the sight of the body lying so still and cold. It wasn't right. Ben was supposed to smile and boast and ... and .... 

Alex shook his head to stop the memory, closing his eyes. It hadn't been until late that night when the stasis pod had suddenly opened, his alien friend trying vainly to comfort him over something the younger boy didn't even understand, that he had given in to his tears. That had been the one and only time he'd allowed himself to cry over Ben. 

Ben had given his life to the Quantum Morpher project, in all senses of the word. He was born to test that morpher, and he had, right up until the day it killed him. The scientists had fixed the 'glitches' as they'd called them, and had assured Time Force that it was merely a self-induced coma, that he could wake up any time he wanted. Alex honestly doubted it was so simple, and if it ***was*** self-induced, they might as well just unplug the machines and lay him to rest now: he'd would never wake up of his own choice. 

Frankly, Alex didn't want him to. 

He had gone on alone, knowing there was nothing else he could do. Time Force had eventually rescued him and the Xybrian from the labs, and he'd taken their offer to join the academy automatically. If he'd been smart enough back then, he would have taken the kid and run as far away from Newtech as he could. But how were a fifteen-year-old lab rat and a thirteen-year-old Xybrian refugee supposed to take care of themselves without any knowledge of how the world worked? 

Instead he'd become Time Force's Red Ranger, wondering every time he morphed if today was the day it would start to poison him, the same way the Quantum Morpher had done for Ben. He was still terrified that one day the other Chrono Morphers would start to do the same. He had worked his way through Time Force, trying to achieve greater status for reasons even he couldn‘t define. Maybe because there was nothing else left for him. Being a Ranger and doing what he was told was all he knew. 

His Xybrian friend - now dubbed 'Trip' due to his clumsiness - had become his little brother as well as his best and only friend along the way, giving him someone to protect. Then there had been Jennifer, his beautiful girlfriend with a charming smile and fierce determination. They had been ***everything*** to him, right up to the day Ransik tried to kill him. 

Then he woke up to find that everyone thought he was dead, that Jen had taken her team and the rest of the Time Force Morphers to the past. That his morpher, that he had fought and bled and nearly lost his ***life*** for, had been given to Wesley Collins. Perfect, normal Collins, who had no idea what he had gone through because of that morpher. Who would never know how much Alex hated him just for existing, because without Collins, there would never have been a need for the Red Chrono Morpher. 

And Jen and Trip and the others had taken him into their lives without a second thought. 

It was true that Jen and the other two didn't know what he'd gone through. But Trip ***did***. And if it was anyone but Trip, it would hurt even more than it already had. But it ***was*** Trip, and he knew, when he forced himself to think about it, that Trip had wanted to do what was best for the team and the people they were protecting by trying to bring in Ransik. It wasn't about trying to hurt Alex. 

But that didn't stop him from feeling betrayed anyway. Whether or not Trip meant it, or Jen had even known, or Kendall and Walker had known anything about him that wasn't already public knowledge, it still hurt to be replaced. And his one trip to the past, to try and put things back on track before Jen and her team forgot where they were from and what they were truly fighting for, had just driven home the fact that they didn't need him anymore - never had. And now, they didn't even ***want*** him. 

They wanted Collins. Just like everyone else. 

He reached out to the tank, stopping himself moments before touching it and withdrawing his hand. Fifteen years of pain and torture, all for a piece of techno-junk that would be forced on Ben the moment he woke up, just like they'd done to Alex. Time Force couldn't pass up the opportunity for the return of its own Quantum Ranger, after all. 

But Ben didn't deserve that. He deserved his hard-won rest, and Alex wouldn't let them take it from him. He'd keep ***one*** of them safe. Somehow. 

Few members of Time Force's officers, even the higher-ups, remembered this room even still existed, let alone the occupant inside that had yet to stir. Some of them had even forgotten the body that had been found when he and Trip had been liberated. That anonymity had been their life long dream, one Alex still longed for. The chance to simply ***be*** , rather than to exist as the remake of a long-dead hero. With the completion of the Quantum Morpher and Ransik's capture, the world no longer had a need for Benjamin Myers. 

He wouldn't let them take that from his brother for anything. 

With a sigh, he finally dragged himself to his feet. Hanging around here was only going to put off the inevitable.


	4. No Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes/:** Hey, developing plot! Who knew? Enjoy!
> 
> For anyone that hasn't read my Power Quirk theories on my website ([Fading Lights](http://angelfire.lycos.com/moon2/tsukinoakume/index.html)), the reason Alex can swear again is because he isn't wearing a morpher. Whenever he ***does*** have one, it censors his language. (Sorry; just realized some people might have been confused or thought that was a typo. ^.^;;)

It had been a long week for Alex. 

Logan was still furious at him. Lucas and Katie didn't seem to know what to make of him now, and the looks they kept giving him were driving him nuts. Jen always looked like she wanted to talk to him, but couldn't seem to find the nerve to. Trip was trying, and Alex had been avoiding him constantly - which was a lot harder to do than it sounded when Trip was truly determined about something. But he didn't want Trip's apologies, or Jen's questions, or Lucas and Katie's confusion. He definitely didn't want Logan's crap about how he had a 'responsibility' or whatever nonsense he was trying to use as an excuse now. 

To his annoyance, he hadn't been fired, although he hadn't really expected to be. If anything, the situation seemed to be being ignored, other than Logan trying to pressure him whenever he found the chance. But the morpher was gone for now, and Alex was quite happy to keep it that way. 

In retrospect, he should have realized sooner that it would never last. 

The door to Ben's room opened for him as always, but he froze in the entrance. The room was absolutely empty. The medical equipment, the stasis pod, the chair ... All gone, as if they'd never been there in the first place. 

"Looking for something?" 

It took all his willpower not to flinch at the voice behind him. Commander Blakemore had been one of the sponsors behind the Morpher Project. Unfortunately, all evidence of his involvement had conveniently disappeared just before the project had been discovered. Without the evidence he and Trip had never been able to prove he'd been a part of it, and he'd remained an uncontested member of Time Force. 

Alex was ***terrified*** of him. 

He turned slowly, his expression cold as he faced him. His customary sunglasses shielded the fear in his eyes from view. "What's going on?" he demanded sharply. 

Blakemore smiled, the expression sending chills down Alex's spine. A small box was in his hand, and he played with it almost casually. "It's quite simple, Alexander. Time Force wants its Red Ranger. You agree to perform your duties, and Benjamin remains asleep. Refuse to cooperate, and we'll be forced to awaken the Quantum Ranger. The decision is yours." He shrugged as though it didn't matter to him either way. It probably didn't. 

Alex was silent for a moment, his mind flying through every possible alternative he could come up with. He couldn’t be a Ranger again - it had taken him so long to get away from that. He didn’t - he ***couldn’t** * … 

There was nothing else he could do. No matter how much he hated it, he had no choice. Ben deserved to stay asleep, and he couldn't let Time Force take that away from him. 

"I'll do it." 

Blakemore's smile widened. "Good boy." 

The box opened to reveal the Red Chrono Morpher sitting innocently, waiting for him. It was all Alex could do to keep his hands from shaking as he reached for it, carefully taking it and pulling it to him. He attached it to his wrist before he could stop himself, and the immediate wave of energy that surged through him made him nauseous. 

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Blakemore asked with a smirk. "All it took was a little persuasion." He paused for effect before patting Alex on the head. "Now run along, Alexander. Mustn't keep your team waiting." 

Alex's teeth ground, fists clenching. He turned and walked away, Blakemore chuckling behind him. 

It wasn't until he was well away from the hallway, safely hidden in a corner where he knew the cameras couldn't see him, that he allowed the shudder he'd been fighting to run through him. He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking, and tried to keep in the tears that threatened his eyes. 

Six years, and he was right back where he'd started: Time Force's pet Ranger. He was going to be sick. 

He glanced down at the morpher still sitting placidly on his wrist, and fought the urge to throw it as far away from himself as he could. 

****

Barely the day after Alex had been forced to take up the morpher again, Time Force had started regular training schedules for the Rangers, 'to get them used to working with their Red Ranger', as the memo said. 

When he finally showed up to the appropriate training room, the tension in the room was palpable. Lucas and Katie seemed to think he'd just proven something to them, judging by the dark looks they were giving him. Jen's face was strangely blank, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Trip watched him in open concern, and it was hard to keep from looking him in the eyes. 

The training opened with a random sparring session, and only Trip didn't leave him with excessive bruises. The fact that Rangers were barely tolerating his presence didn't seem to go unnoticed, but there hadn't been any authority figures calling them on it yet, and Alex wasn't exactly trying to fix the problem himself. 

Eventually he found himself facing off with Katie, who seemed to take a certain gleefully sadistic pleasure in trying to hit him as hard as she could, which meant he spent most of his time trying to dodge her blows rather than fight back. He was used to trying to defend rather than attack, but it definitely wasn't his style. And while he knew he could probably take her down if he found an opening, he couldn't bring himself to do it: if he took Katie down, it wasn't going to be pretty. 

To make matters worse, Trip kept trying to contact him telepathically as they fought, which wasn't exactly helping his focus. When Alex refused to answer, he'd said something to Jen as the two of them teamed up against Lucas. Now Jen kept shooting him suspicious looks of her own, and it was driving him crazy. 

When had they become enough of a team for her to trust Trip so easily? And why hadn’t he noticed? 

The answer was simple, of course: he wasn’t there. After a year of fighting Ransik together, isolated from Time Force, the four of them had become a team. And he wasn’t part of that, never would be. 

At last Logan's voice came over the com. "Let's take it up to the next level, Rangers." 

He wanted them to morph. 

There was no way - no way he could do this. 

He could handle wearing the morpher. Mostly. But morphing ... 

Not happening. Not a chance. 

He looked down at his comm unit, opening his mouth to excuse himself for a 'priority transmission'. But when he glanced up again, he froze. 

Blakemore was standing in the back of the observation room. Trip must not have seen him: the Rangers were already moving to their morphing stance. Chills ran down his spine as Blakemore stared at back him, smirking. 

He swallowed hard, and at last reached for the morpher, praying his hands weren't shaking again. "Time for Time Force," he called woodenly. 

He turned to the Yellow Ranger, who stared at him for a moment in surprise. Then her fists came up, and she launched herself at him again. He retaliated silently, the power instantly replenishing his strength and dulling the pain of his earlier bruises. Old memories surfaced, and he found himself reverting to the familiar Ranger instincts. 

This was what he knew. This was what he was. 

This was all he would ever be. 

****

He was barely inside his office before the Rangers barged in. "Alex what's going on?" Jen demanded. 

"Why are you suddenly using Wes' morpher?" Katie wanted to know, her eyes narrowed at him. "Changed your mind or something? You're suddenly not too good for us anymore?" 

Lucas' glare was like ice. "We don't need your help." 

Trip looked worried as he reached out to touch his shoulder. "Alex, what's happening?" 

It was too much. Too many people, the warmth of the morpher on his wrist was too hot. Blakemore patting his shoulder as he walked away. 

Everything was happening too fast. 

He backed against the wall, shaking his head. The walls seemed to be closing in on him, and it was all he could to to try and get away from them. His hands went to clutch at his head as it began to pound. The lights were too bright. There were too many people, not enough room to breathe. He couldn't breathe. 

Everything pressed in closer, and he found himself back in the endless white walls and bright lights, people trying to attach more equipment to him. The warm energy of the Red Chrono Morpher pulsing on his wrist. They were going to cut him open again, to study him, to make him - 

" ***No***!" he screamed in defiance, attacking before they had the chance. 

His kicks were wild, trying to keep them all away. The moment someone slipped inside his defenses, he lashed out with his fists. His chest was heaving in fear, but distantly he thought he remembered a door behind them. If he could just break through, he'd be free. 

Desperate, he launched himself into a full-on tackle. The person he hit went down, and he bolted for the door. His hand stretched out, reaching for freedom. 

Something stung his back, and he felt himself falling as darkness closed in on him.


	5. Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes/:** Pouring on the Alex angst here, because Rosabelle loves to see him suffer.
> 
> ... It occurs to me that I'm turning my version of the Xybrian race into the Na'vi from _Avatar_. Crap. Oops? o.O

Alex stirred, his eyes drifting open to stare at the ceiling of his living room. For a moment, he wondered when he'd gotten there, and how long he'd been out. His head was killing him, but everything else seemed to be in working order. 

"Alex ... ?" The voice was soft, tentative, emphasized by the hesitant brush against his mind. 

He blinked, frowning a little as he tried to sit up. It took more effort than it should have. "Trip? What are you - " 

He paused. Trip was kneeling a few feet away from his couch, watching him in concern. Jen sat in his favorite chair with an unreadable expression, while he could see Lucas in front of the main door and Katie by the kitchen, both looking suspicious. "What's going on?" he asked warily. 

Trip hesitated. "We were ... sort of hoping you could tell us." 

He frowned, one hand going to the back of his head as he tried not to wince. "What happened? The last thing I remember was - " He stopped. 

His office. They were trying to corner him, asking questions - 

Oh, great. 

"You had a flashback," Trip said carefully. "We brought you back here so there wouldn't be any questions." 

He snorted without meaning to, finally managing to get to a sitting position. Yeah, like the Rangers didn't have questions of their own. This was ***just*** what he needed. 

"Trip didn't want you in the infirmary," Jen spoke up, still looking at him with that expression he couldn't read through. "He seemed to think it'd just make things worse." 

Logan finding out he was mentally unstable? Or worse, Blakemore? They'd wake up Ben in a heartbeat. 

He shuddered without meaning to. "He's probably right," he admitted. 

"So what happened?" Katie asked. The guarded look hadn't faded, and she didn't move from the entrance to the kitchen - although she wasn't blocking it completely, he noted - but her voice was less hostile toward him than it usually was. 

"It was nothing. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I'm fine now." The words were automatic, and he fought for balance as stood. The sway was brief, but noticeable. 

"Alex." 

He looked up as his head cleared and found Trip standing in front of him, looking solemn. "Something's happened, hasn't it?" the younger man asked quietly. 

He shook his head. "It's nothing for you to - " 

"If it hurts you, it hurts me too!" He paused, biting his lip uncertainly as his eyes looked pained. "Or am I not important to you anymore?" 

" ***What***?!" He stared at Trip, incredulous. "You're the one who stopped - " 

"I've ***never*** stopped worrying about you!" Trip interrupted hotly. _:: You're my best friend, Alex! Lias aeo na'say'ah! Of ***course*** I care about you! ::_ The words pressed firmly into his mind, almost forcing him to absorb them. 

Alex shook his head, rubbing at his temple. "Trip," he sighed. "I ... " He shook his head again. _I can't_ , he thought at last, knowing Trip would pick up on the thought. _I can't explain this to you. It's better if you stay out of it._

Trip sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at him solemnly. _:: You can't protect me forever. ::_

_Watch me._

That earned him an eyeroll, followed by another sigh. "No more secrets, Alex," he said softly. "Please." 

He grit his teeth in frustration, turning to glare at the window. "It's not that simple and you know it." 

"Are they trying to hurt you again?" 

"What?" Jen asked sharply. "Who's trying to hurt you?" 

"It's no one," he snapped. 

"It ***is*** them, isn't it?" Trip persisted. "Alex - " 

"Who?" Lucas interrupted, sounding suspicious. 

"What's going on?" Katie put in irritably. "What aren't you telling us?" 

"Alex - " Jen began. 

" ***Stop***!" he shouted before he could stop himself. He reached up to press his fingers against his temples in the sudden silence and shut his eyes tightly. "Just ... stop. All of you. This isn't something any of you need to get involved in. There's nothing going on. It's just ... " He shook his head again. "It's nothing." 

There was a long silence. 

"Even ***I*** don't believe that," Lucas said dryly. "And I barely know you." 

His jaw clenched. Why couldn't they just _leave it ***alone***?_

"Because we love you." 

He flinched. 

Trip's hand came down on his arm, squeezing gently. "I know you don't believe that, but we do, Alex," he insisted softly. _"Na'say'ah teo na'say'ah pu."_

_Your heart is my heart._

_But you don't,_ he reminded himself, guarding his thoughts before Trip could pick up on them. _You want ***Him*** , not me. And I'll never be him._

"Alex," Jen said at last, breaking the silence. "At least tell us why you took the morpher back, and why you didn't tell us about it. Even if you don't want to explain anything else, you can ***at least*** explain that." 

He sighed quietly. She did deserve to know that much; it was her team. They may not want to hear it, but at least he could have the moment to tell them something close to the truth. 

"The executive council has decided they want a full Ranger team," he said finally. "You may have left Wes the Red Chrono morpher in the past, but it didn't ***stay*** there; it was returned shortly before his death. The council doesn't like the idea of a morpher sitting in a vault, and seeing as I'm the only person who can break the DNA lock - " He wasn't, but that was more than they needed to know, "I was ordered to wear it again. I tried to refuse, but - " He shook his head. 

"I'm not trying to take over the team," he added while he was thinking about it. "This is Jen's team. I had actually been intending to act as your sixth, but ... it seems that wasn't - " He cleared his throat. "It was insisted that I work with all of you instead. After I agreed, they started the training regime." 

"So why did you tell us that from the beginning?" Katie asked. 

He snorted. "You never gave me the chance." 

There was an awkward pause. 

"So that's all this is? Bureaucratic stupidity?" Lucas sounded skeptical. 

He nodded, because essentially it was. 

"And the panic attack?" Jen pushed. 

"... I'm claustrophobic," he muttered. It was somewhat true. 

"Seriously?" Katie sounded almost amused. 

"I'm not exactly proud of it," he snapped, turning to shoot her a glare. 

She winced. "Sorry. That was rude." She offered a guilty smile. "Guess I'm just not used to you being human." 

His breath caught as he stared at her, frozen. 

_\-- "Are we human, A?" --_

_\-- "Maybe ... maybe things wouldn't be like this if we were human." --_

".. Alex?" 

He blinked. 

"Sorry. I was ... thinking." 

"It's getting late," Jen spoke up. "We should go." 

He vaguely remembered seeing them all to the door. Katie actually smiled at him, and Lucas seemed less hostile than usual. Jen's penitrating stare was back. Trip tried to linger, but Katie wrapped her arm around him and said something about dinner, and he was gone along with the rest of them. 

Alex leaned against the door long after it had shut, staring blankly at the floor. 

_\-- "Are we human, A?" --_


End file.
